*** Here’s a middlin’ version of a story I wrote for Friday’s Mercury News about Stanford football attendance (middlin’ meaning: This version had been through one of three editing stages.)

It’s scheduled to run in the A section, not sports, and thus is written with a broader audience in mind.

The idea was to provide a fair, thorough look at the attendance issue and potential ramifications …

Anationally-ranked football team with a star quarterback, well-known coach and gorgeous stadium would translate to sellout crowds on most college campuses.

But not at Stanford, where thousands of seats sit empty on any given Saturday. The small crowds are an object of derision for opponents and a source of frustration for school officials, including football coach Jim Harbaugh. The situation has left others baffled.

“Their head coach is a force of nature. Their quarterback is a Heisman Trophy candidate. Their team is one of the best in the country, and they have 6.5 million people living here,” said Andy Dolich, who has worked as an executive for the A’s, Warriors and 49ers. “They’ve got everything going for them.”

But the empty seats — in 50-000-seat Stanford Stadium, more than 10,000 regularly go unfilled — are no longer just a head scratcher. They could cost the football team a berth in a major bowl game.

Led by quarterback Andrew Luck, Stanford is ranked No. 7 in the country and has already qualified for a bowl berth entering Saturday’s regular-season finale against Oregon State.

Under certain scenarios, the Sugar and Orange bowls — two of the most prestigious — would have the option to take Stanford.

But Stanford’s drawing power would be a major concern, according to officials at several bowls, because ticket sales and hotel bookings are important.

“It’s definitely a factor,” said one. “If the Orange Bowl took Stanford, they’d be lucky to get 5,000 fans. Pac-10 teams, and particularly Stanford, have a history of not traveling well.”

Many Stanford fans won’t even travel a few miles to watch the Cardinal play on campus.

Officially, Stanford averages 40,296 fans per game. (The only Top 25 team that has a harder time filling its stadium is Nevada.)

Stanford’s average reflects the number of tickets sold and distributed. The in-house crowds are often smaller by 5,000-10,000.

For the early-November showdown against Arizona — one of the biggest home games in Stanford history — the actual crowd was a shade over 37,000. In other words: The stadium was 25 percent empty for a game featuring two ranked teams.

Harbaugh, who has been critical of the fan support in the past, declined to discuss the attendance woes. But the players have noticed.

“It was a nationally televised game,” linebacker Shayne Skov said of the no-shows for Arizona. “We were looking forward to playing in front of a sellout crowd.”

That has happened only once this season — against traditional powerhouse USC, whose fans scooped up thousands of tickets.

The Stanford students, who receive free admission, have rallied behind Harbaugh and turn out at the rate of 4,000 per game. The school also has a solid base of older fans, who have followed the team for decades.

The problem is every other age group.

“We have got to get younger,” said David Vargas, the director of football marketing. “We haven’t reached out to young alumni. The vast majority of our graduates stay in the area for a few years.”

Gary Tyrrell, a longtime season ticket holder and Stanford alum, said he doesn’t give much thought to the empty seats during the game — partly because of the energy generated from the student section.

“But I think the criticism from members of the football program about the spotty attendance is valid,” said Tyrrell, a former Stanford band member who famously got run over while playing his trombone during “The Play,” Cal’s five-lateral touchdown in the 1982 Big Game.

“I’d hope that we could get another 12,000 folks to come out to support them for four hours, six times a year.”

Stanford officials point to several factors for the small crowds, including:

n The double-whammy of being a small private school in a crowded sports marketplace, a circumstance not exclusive to Stanford.

Northwestern, located in the Chicago suburb of Evanston, averages 4,000 fewer fans than Stanford — but hasn’t been ranked all season.

n A small local alumni base. There are 55,000 Stanford alumni living in the Greater Bay Area, compared to 150,000 for Cal.

n Inconsistent start times. The kickoff times are usually dictated by television and often are not announced until a week or two before kickoff. This year, Stanford home games have started as early as 2 p.m. and as late as 8:15 p.m.

n Many years of losing. The Cardinal went seven seasons (2002-08) without posting a winning record, the longest such stretch in school history.

But since the start of the 2009 season it boasts an 18-6 record, better than any of the major football-playing competition (the 49ers, Raiders, Cal and San Jose State ) .

And yet Stanford Stadium — the sparkling $90 million facility renovated prior to the 2006 season — is usually less than 80 percent full.

“It’s disappointing,” Vargas said. “It’s such a great product.”

Beyond the aforementioned challenges, Stanford has done a poor job marketing its football program over the years, according to several Bay Area sports promoters.

They point to the lack of community outreach, an over-reliance on slogans — “Marketing is more than a billboard on El Camino Real,” Dolich said — and ideas that are of questionable taste.

At one time, Stanford posted advertisements above the urinals at AT&T Park. “It was sophomoric; they were using potty humor,” said one veteran Bay Area sports marketer.

But the larger issue is scope.

“It seems like they market north to Menlo Park and south to Los Altos,” said Dolich, who lives on the Peninsula. “Why wouldn’t you market north to Sacramento, south to Monterey and east to the state line?

“I don’t think they look at the entirety of Northern California as a marketplace, or at the greater Bay Area as a marketplace.”

Vargas, who became football marketing director over the summer, is attempting to change that.

He has increased advertising on KNBR and has purchased space on busses in San Francisco that feed areas with younger populations, such as North Beach and the Marina.

There are also plans to play the annual spring scrimmage at Kezar Stadium in Golden Gate Park for a second consecutive year.

And instead of using an annual slogan such as “Red, White and You” or “We Work”, he has created a marketing theme that’s based on the Sharks’ longstanding and highly-successful “This is Sharks Territory” campaign.

It’s called “The Cardinal Rules!” and plays on the no-nonsense, blue-collar attitude that Harbaugh has used to build a winner on the field.

Now how to make more fans come?

“It’s an infectious vibe when the stadium is rocking, like against USC,” Tyrrell said. “I wish it were the case more often.”

A nationally-ranked football team with a star quarterback, well-known coach and gorgeous stadium would translate to sellout crowds on most college campuses.

But not at Stanford, where thousands of seats sit empty on any given Saturday. The small crowds are an object of derision for opponents and a source of frustration for school officials, including football coach Jim Harbaugh. The situation has left others baffled.

“Their head coach is a force of nature. Their quarterback is a Heisman Trophy candidate. Their team is one of the best in the country, and they have 6.5 million people living here,” said Andy Dolich, who has worked as an executive for the A’s, Warriors and 49ers.

“They’ve got everything going for them.”

But the empty seats — in 50-000-seat Stanford Stadium, more than 10,000 regularly go unfilled — are no longer just a head scratcher. They could cost the football team a berth in a major bowl game.

Led by quarterback Andrew Luck, Stanford is ranked No. 7 in the country and has already qualified for a bowl berth entering Saturday’s regular-season finale against Oregon State.

Under certain scenarios, the Sugar and Orange bowls — two of the most prestigious — would have the option to take Stanford.

But Stanford’s drawing power would be a major concern, according to officials at several bowls, because ticket sales and hotel bookings are important.

“It’s definitely a factor,” said one. “If the Orange Bowl took Stanford, they’d be lucky to get 5,000 fans. Pac-10 teams, and particularly Stanford, have a history of not traveling well.”

Many Stanford fans won’t even travel a few miles to watch the Cardinal play on campus.

Officially, Stanford averages 40,296 fans per game. (The only Top 25 team that has a harder time filling its stadium is Nevada.)

Stanford’s average reflects the number of tickets sold and distributed. The in-house crowds are often smaller by 5,000-10,000.

For the early-November showdown against Arizona — one of the biggest home games in Stanford history — the actual crowd was a shade over 37,000.

In other words: The stadium was 25 percent empty for a game featuring two ranked teams.

Harbaugh, who has been critical of the fan support in the past, declined to discuss the attendance woes. But the players have noticed.

“It was a nationally televised game,” linebacker Shayne Skov said of the no-shows for Arizona. “We were looking forward to playing in front of a sellout crowd.”

That has happened only once this season — against traditional powerhouse USC, whose fans scooped up thousands of tickets.

The Stanford students, who receive free admission, have rallied behind Harbaugh and turn out at the rate of 4,000 per game. The school also has a solid base of older fans, who have followed the team for decades.

The problem is every other age group.

“We have got to get younger,” said David Vargas, the director of football marketing. “We haven’t reached out to young alumni. The vast majority of our graduates stay in the area for a few years.”

Gary Tyrrell, a longtime season ticket holder and Stanford alum, said he doesn’t give much thought to the empty seats during the game — partly because of the energy generated from the student section.

“But I think the criticism from members of the football program about the spotty attendance is valid,” said Tyrrell, a former Stanford band member who famously got run over while playing his trombone during “The Play,” Cal’s five-lateral touchdown in the 1982 Big Game.

“I’d hope that we could get another 12,000 folks to come out to support them for four hours, six times a year.”

Stanford officials point to several factors for the small crowds, including:

** The double-whammy of being a small private school in a crowded sports marketplace, a circumstance not exclusive to Stanford.

Northwestern, located in the Chicago suburb of Evanston, averages 4,000 fewer fans than Stanford — but hasn’t been ranked all season.

** A small local alumni base. There are 55,000 Stanford alumni living in the Greater Bay Area, compared to 150,000 for Cal.

** Inconsistent start times. The kickoff times are usually dictated by television and often are not announced until a week or two before kickoff. This year, Stanford home games have started as early as 2 p.m. and as late as 8:15 p.m.

** Many years of losing. The Cardinal went seven seasons (2002-08) without posting a winning record, the longest such stretch in school history.

But since the start of the 2009 season it boasts an 18-6 record, better than any of the major football-playing competition (the 49ers, Raiders, Cal and San Jose State ) .

And yet Stanford Stadium — the sparkling $90 million facility renovated prior to the 2006 season — is usually less than 80 percent full.

“It’s disappointing,” Vargas said. “It’s such a great product.”

Beyond the aforementioned challenges, Stanford has done a poor job marketing its football program over the years, according to several Bay Area sports promoters.

They point to the lack of community outreach, an over-reliance on slogans — “Marketing is more than a billboard on El Camino Real,” Dolich said — and ideas that are of questionable taste.

At one time, Stanford posted advertisements above the urinals at AT&T Park. “It was sophomoric; they were using potty humor,” said one veteran Bay Area sports marketer.

But the larger issue is scope.

“It seems like they market north to Menlo Park and south to Los Altos,” said Dolich, who lives on the Peninsula. “Why wouldn’t you market north to Sacramento, south to Monterey and east to the state line?

“I don’t think they look at the entirety of Northern California as a marketplace, or at the greater Bay Area as a marketplace.”

Vargas, who became football marketing director over the summer, is attempting to change that.

He has increased advertising on KNBR and has purchased space on busses in San Francisco that feed areas with younger populations, such as North Beach and the Marina.

There are also plans to play the annual spring scrimmage at Kezar Stadium in Golden Gate Park for a second consecutive year.

And instead of using an annual slogan such as “Red, White and You” or “We Work”, he has created a marketing theme that’s based on the Sharks’ longstanding and highly-successful “This is Sharks Territory” campaign.

It’s called “The Cardinal Rules!” and plays on the no-nonsense, blue-collar attitude that Harbaugh has used to build a winner on the field.

Now how to make more fans come?

“It’s an infectious vibe when the stadium is rocking, like against USC,” Tyrrell said. “I wish it were the case more often.”